the space left over
by dannymahealani
Summary: —- forgets to connect the stars to make the constellations. / Draco Malfoy and the fire that still burns.


**disclaimer**: disclaimed.  
**notes**: i don't do the main characters. ever. there's too much possibility that it will be out of character. but somehow this happened and, well, i just hope it's not too out of character. this was originally for something over in HPFC but the prompt was used too vaguely so alas. but here's this.

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**the space left over**

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I.

Just over one year into it, and doubts begin to appear: the way the Daily Prophet labels them as 'enemies;' the way other students glare at him with such contempt and reminds him of the way he used to glare at them; the way his father begins to look, for the first time, old and tired and like his body is wearing down. It is not the first time he notices these things but something has changed inside of him and he isn't quite sure what.

Draco does not want his body to wear down the same way his father's is, nowhere near nobility and miles away from the originally target. But they're family and family doesn't abandon each other and the Malfoy's have this annoying trait to never talk about doubts or second-guessing, so his reluctance stays buried.

II.

Before, before when it was just a possibility and not reality, before when all he worried about was stupid Crabbe and stupid Goyle and childish games and whether or not his parents were in it completely, before it was all just an idea. Before it was nothing amidst Quidditch practice and transfiguration papers and robes of green and trying to raise as much havoc on Potter as possible.

He never knew how far the havoc could go.

III.

His father's voice shakes. For the first time in his life, Draco Malfoy realizes his father is weak. He is fifteen and waiting for fifth year and anything seemed possible, but this never crossed his mind. It never crossed his mind to see his father as weak._  
_

He's not supposed to hear it, but he does anyways as he stands behind the kitchen door and watch his parents' fight dwindle down to small whispers and hunched limbs. His father's voice shakes as he talks to his mother, and for the first time, Draco Malfoy thinks _this is real but why? this is real but why? _and forgets to connect the stars to make the constellations.

For the first and only time in his life, Draco Malfoy forgets how big it is.

IV.

He talks more to Blaise than to Crabbe or Goyle during his sixth year, but they don't talk about real things. They talk about stupid new students and they talk about stupid assignments and sometimes, even, they talk about girls - or, Blaise talks about girls and his nights and Draco mostly listens. He has other things to think about that can't be translated from his mind to his tongue and that Blaise wouldn't particularly care to, anyways. He may be a Slytherin, but his family isn't as in it as Draco's and Draco is convinced that he wouldn't understand even if he could talk about it.

But Blaise knows him well enough to stay clear of talk about his father, unlike most of the student body, and if anything, that's why they remain friends.

V.

The battle was horrendous and, like everyone, he tends to stay clear of the memories. But when that fails, everything comes back: green robes, his house, his almost-friends _leaving_ them like the cowards they were; the fire, all red and orange and yellow, too much like the three Gryffindors that saved the two of them and then the one of them that didn't get saved, the one whose corpse burned and whose lungs were filled with smoke and whose words were lost -

The battle was horrendous and, like everyone, he tends to stay clear of the memories. But when that fails, it feels like his body collapsed, like he lacks a spine to hold him upright, like his limbs are weighed down by a weight unimaginable. The feeling can last for anywhere from two hours to two days to two months even though he tries his hardest to push the memories out of his mind and make himself a new spine.

VI.

He is twenty-five and out of the castle he never wants to go to again and the memories are still there, burning bright at the back of his mind. He talks to his lover about these things rarely and she never pushes, never urges him on unless he wants to. He thinks that's one of the reasons why he loves her. She never asks for a commitment because she knows how that's gone for him before and he thinks, there's another one, another reason in a list of hundreds.

And while the memories will always be there, always burning, he thinks the fire might be smaller now, with their fingers interlocked and her whispers of a better future that he knows they'll make happen.

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_please, if you liked it enough to favorite, leave a review with it!_


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